The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves

by Richard Heredia

  Her eyes, hidden behind the sunglasses, flicked about her surroundings with a kind of antsy twitch, as if she were late for a meeting or an event of some type, though there was no such pressing engagement. She shook her head in frustration, glancing over her shoulder to her left, stink-eyeing a couple of preppie cheerleaders as they scampered their way down to the football field. They walked behind Kimberly’s position, on the lower terrace, lying directly before the broad stairs and multiple doorways leading to the aforementioned gym. They yelled and laughed with so much enthusiasm, it made Kimberly want to puke. God damned cheerleaders can suck balls, she thought, uncrossing her arms, now holding her textbook with her right hand cupping the spine.

  Matter of Fact, she wasn’t the slightest bit late. It was her boyfriend, Sonny, who was tardy. This upset her more than a little, because he was never late. Usually, he was the one bitching and complaining about how long it took her to get out of her final period and meet him here in the parking lot. He would rant and rave for a few minutes and would then switch gears when she’d glare at him. He’s say something lame like he was only anxious to see her, to have her in his arms. Though, she’d roll her eyes, she actually didn’t mind hearing those words from him and usually favored him with the smile he deserved. That would be that, and he would zoom out of the parking lot, nearly hitting her fellow students as he did so. It was so much of a routine, she’d grown used to it.

  On the other hand, when Sonny was late that could only mean a few things, none of them were good. None of them spelled a comfortable afternoon for Kimberly. This is what bothered her at the moment.

  Only a few things would make Sonny late – an argument with his father, which would mean he would be in a horrible mood and, sometimes, in so much of a funk, Kimberly would have to lay low until some of the storm from his brow dissipated. Another possible reason was car trouble, which could set him off even worse than a little tiff with his father. The third cause, the one Kimberly never really liked to think about, was another girl. After which, he would mark his arrival with a flourish. He’d be in a wonderfully good mood that could turn into a Mount Saint Helen’s blowout if she so much as asked what kept him from being on time. There’d been more than a few of each over the course of the past few months. She really didn’t know what to expect today…

  With a fatalistic smile, she silently wondered what it would be this time, hoping the impending argument wouldn’t be too severe. With growing dread, she wished, whatever it was, they could get through it quickly and get onto much nicer things. The last time was just a little too intense for her liking. The bruises had only just begun to fade…

  She brought her head up a little and gazed across the parking lot, seeing the steady stream of cars, vans, and SUV’s driving in and around the cul-de-sac beyond, parent after parent picking up student after student.

  Walking on the far side of the dead-end street was a figure she recognized. Immediately, the ants-in-her-pants evolved into full-blown apprehension.

  It was Derek Benson, an African American ninth-grader that, for some reason, Sonny absolutely hated and would antagonize on sight.

  Don’t play dumb, girl, you know exactly why Sonny hates him.

  Shut the hell up! She frowned at the thought, glancing around, into the traffic, looking for Sonny’s beat-up, black and primer-ed-out 1999 Nissan Maxima. She didn’t see his vehicle through the throng moving before her. She breathed a quick sigh of relief, craning her neck as Derek walked behind a group of cars too tall for her to see over. She wished he would hurry the hell up and get out of the vicinity. It would be nice to be able avoid another incident. Something she really didn’t want to deal with right now. The fact Sonny was late was enough for her to deal for the time being.

  “Hey sexy,” came a husky voice at her left elbow.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin. Jesus Christ on a pony! she howled silently. She’d been so intent on searching for his car, Kimberly hadn’t considered he’d walk through the throng on foot. She was shocked to see Sonny at her side.

  His face was aglow, a faint sheen of aged sweat coating its’ skin. When his eyes looked into her hers, she saw a glossy, sort of detached, glimmer to them. That is when the fourth reason for his tardiness surfaced in her brain and she felt a thickening swallow of lead bear down in her stomach. No, it wasn’t his father or his jacked up car or another girl swinging from his jock. He was back on the Meth, and that was something she could not abide.

  “Hey yourself,” she managed after a time, though, in his impaired state, he didn’t seem to notice her hesitation.

  He had sandy blonde hair, mussed and dishelved. His face, covered in days’ old sweat, didn’t, in any way, add a healthy glow to his visage. Rather, it looked caked-on and made him look older than the twenty years he’d accumulated since birth. He stood about four inches taller than her five foot four with a slim build that, at one time, had been wiry, ropey, but now, tended toward lassitude. He wore a tattered avocado-colored t-shirt of some misbegotten band one of his old buddies had put together a few years back. A pair of dirty looking blue jeans sagged on his narrow hips, threatening to fall to the ground. On his feet, he sported a pair of besmirched Chuck Taylors that, at one time, might’ve been black, but where now more gray and molted.

  “Ha-had to walk the last few blocks to get here, babe, too many… too many fucking cars and shit,” he babbled, wiping at his nose, though it wasn’t running. Then, he stopped mid-swipe to pick at something non- existent on his cheek. His eyes fluttered back and forth, before settling back upon her. A crooked smile, he could barely maintain cracked the lower half of his face.

  Thinking, she glanced about quickly. She couldn’t make hide or hair of Derek, and felt a modicum of relief. She looked upon her boyfriend once again, wondering how she was going to get rid of him this time with a minimum amount of fuss.

  “You sure you can drive, Son?” she asked using her pet name for him, half-expecting him to go off the deep end as she came off the railing, shifting slightly to the side. She was facing him more directly.

  To her surprise, he merely smiled wanly, looking at her through muddled, light-brown eyes, focusing on her face for a few moments, then unfocusing the next few. He chuckled, almost losing his balance, as if he stood on the deck of a crab fishing boat and not upon the concrete of the walkway.

  Jesus, this dude is wacked out of his mind!

  “Fo shō I can drive, baby,” he slurred, reaching out to grab onto the railing in order to steady himself. He missed on his first attempt, but succeeding with the second.

  Crap, I gotta do something. There’s no way I’m gonna get in a car with him, he’ll kill me… and probably somebody else as well…

  “What took you so long?” she inquired, forging on, but stalling at the same time, trying to think her way out of the situation.

  “I told you, sweet azz. I had to walk all the way from the other cul-de-sac like three blocks away,” he replied leaning into her space.

  For the first time, she could smell the burnt metallic residue of the drugs in his clothes and the sour waft of alcohol on his breath. Great, fucking Meth and booze, she thought. He held the railing so tight, his knuckles were turning white from the pressure. She knew the moment he let go, he would crash to the ground like a stone.

  “And your being late has nothing to do with the fact that you’re baked out of your mind, right?” she asked, willing to risk a confrontation versus being around him in his current state. There was no way she was going to let him get her into his car. There was no telling what could happen then.

  He smiled anew, as if he hadn’t heard her. He fell back to lean fully onto the railing, glancing up at the sky and the few clouds lingering above.

  “Sonny?”

  His gaze remained skyward.

  “Sonny!?!” she said in a raised voice, not caring who heard.

  The number of students around them was rapidly decreasing as the minutes passed. Still, though, a few heads turn
ed their way.

  “Yeah, what, girl? Do you have to freakin’ yell in my ear?!” His eyes looked down into hers with the first signs of irritation.

  “What do you expect me to do when you can’t keep your train of thought longer than a two-year-old?” Her response was filled with an equal amount of irritation.

  Sonny’s face had already lost all expression. Suddenly, it melted into a smile he could barely sustain. It looked like it was made of clay. “Give me a kiss, baby-girl. I want to taste your luscious lips.”

  Kimberly, for the second time in the last few minutes, felt like throwing up. The last thing she wanted to do was kiss the gross remains of the crystal-meth and Jack Daniels in his mouth. She felt his other hand grab a hold of her elbow in an attempt to pull her closer to him.

  Out of instinct, she resisted.

  “Hey, Kim, give meh sum love.” His voice sharpened when he realized she didn’t intend to get any nearer to him than she already was.

  “Are you crazy? You smell like shit, Sonny! There’s no way I’m gonna make out with you when you’re walking around with the stench of an addict!” croaked Kimberly through clenched teeth, afraid if she relaxed in any way, she would indeed sick-up on the concrete.

  Sonny’s brow furled with anger fast becoming fury. His grip tightened on her arm until it became painful.

  Here it comes.

  “Wha d-hid you say, you little bitch…?” His voice trailed off dangerously.

  “Let go of me,” she demanded, ignoring his question altogether, twisting her arm this way and that, trying to get out of his grasp.

  His hand tightened even more.

  She could feel her flesh beginning to bruise.

  He spoke through the clenched muscles in his jaw, his chin jutting out as if he had an under bite. “You gonna do wha I say do, do you hear meh?” He spoke an octave lower, always an indication he was about to turn violent.

  “Sonny, let go of me! You’re hurting my arm!” she exclaimed, letting her Physics book drop to the ground as she attempted to free herself from him. She yanked more vigorously than before, tugging and pulling much harder.

  “Fuck your arm, give meh my kisssss,” he insisted, letting go of the rail and grabbing her around the waist, pinning her arms beneath his. He smashed his pelvis into hers, which sparked another, deeper, hidden set of memories in Kimberly’s brain.

  A Roman candle went off in her head. “LET ME GO, YOU ASSHOLE!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, squirming back and forth in his harsh, uncaring embrace. Those memories exploded to the forefront of her consciousness, making her react with equal violence - revulsion and anger bringing tears to her eyes.

  Sonny, though, wasn’t listening as he leaned closer, loving the feel of her young, firm body writhing in his arms. Blood flushed into his face, emboldening him, fortifying his will, stiffening his resolve. Kimberly would always be his no matter what!

  “Hey! Is everything cool between you two?” came a voice from atop the steps of the South Gym.

  Kimberly’s head pivoted in that general direction. Her vision blurred, but the look on her face was more than enough to call the tall, lanky teenage boy with a basketball tucked under his arm to action.

  “Hey, ass cheese, let her go!” he hollered as he let the ball bounce to the ground. He sprinted down the four steps and onto the terrace, making his way for the narrow set of stairs, leading up to the walkway where Kimberly was wrestling with Sonny.

  Kimberly, despite her best efforts, watched as Sonny’s lips edged ever closer. The intent look in his eyes was plain for her to see. This would be more than a kiss, she was sure of it. She managed to wrench one of her hands free and with all the might she could muster, she smacked him across the face. The blow stunned him, bringing him from his lecherous thoughts. His eyes bored into hers, lust turning to rage. Her blow had lacked any sort of real leverage, so it had done little damage.

  “You lil’ whore,” he muttered under his breath, letting go of her arm, rearing back to strike her as she had him. Only, he had the weight of his entire body behind it -.

  The basketball player was there.

  He struck downward, a chopping sort of motion with his hand, whacking Sonny in the crook of his arm. That caused two things to happen simultaneously – Sonny’s vice-like grip on Kimberly broke and she fell, unceremoniously, to the ground.

  “What the -,” Sonny was about to say when his eyes caught sight of the size of the other boy. He immediately took a half-step back.

  “You better get the hell out of here, dude, before I kick the shit out of you,” the boy sputtered angrily. The shallow hue to his complexion was flushed red with the blood coursing through his body. He was ready for things to get physical. His entire body was rigid, like a rubber band ready to snap.

  Sonny glanced from Kimberly to the towering teenager, then back to Kimberly.

  “This isn’t over, Kim. I’m not finished with you,” he bellowed with false bravado, puffing out his caved-in chest, though he was already clutching at his arm.

  “Dude, I’m not screwing around, get your scrawny ass out of here,” repeated the basketball player.

  Sonny gave the big kid a second look, then turned and lurched across the parking lot, holding the arm the other boy had hammered.

  Kimberly watched him stumble down the sidewalk toward where she assumed he’d parked his car. He was weaving so dramatically from one side to the other, she doubted he would be capable of holding himself upright for long. With each step he took, her fear ebbed, but her apprehension peaked, as it had every time Sonny had made threats. More often than not, he followed through on them.

  “Are you ok?” queried the boy.

  Kimberly glanced up at him, feeling embarrassment creep over her body, making her tingle from the bottom of her spine to the very nape of her neck. “I think so,” she muttered, her voice meek and shaky. She saw he’d extended his hand toward her. She swallowed her pride and took it, so he could help her to her feet. She began to dust herself off, while he bent to retrieve her fallen textbook.

  “Here you go,” he offered it to her, which she took with a wan smile. “You want me to get some help or something?” he asked, his brown eyebrows rising with the inflection in his voice.

  Kimberly shook her head. “No, man, I’m okay, just a little bruised on the arm, but thanks anyway.”

  His face lit up with a brilliant grin. He nodded, after a time, when she didn’t respond. “Ok then, well, see you around,” he gulped and turned to go back down the stairs and scoop up his ball.

  “Hey,” Kimberly called to him.

  He turned to look back at her, the cast of his face expectant.

  “I mean it, man, thanks a lot.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he replied instantly, “anyone would’ve seen you were in a bit of a situation and would’ve helped. I was just the lucky one to be at the right place at the right time,” he gazed at her warmly.

  Kimberly stared at him for a few moments, not sure what to say next.

  His face lined with concern. “You sure you’re ok?”

  Kimberly snapped out of it. “…Yeah! Yes! I’m fine, thank you,” she stammered, feeling awkward as she tried to recover some sense of composure.

  “Ok… well, hope to see you around,” he added with a small wave and then bounded down the stairs.

  “Me too,” she whispered.

  She watched his tall, lean figure bend to pick up his ball, the loose locks of his khaki-colored hair bouncing as he moved. His sweat outfit concealed the contours of his body. She wondered if he was built or if he was lithe. His sneakers squeaked as he trotted up the stairs to the gym. Just before he disappeared through one of the many portals of the building, he turned and gave a quick look and another warm smile, nodding his head in her direction. Then, he was gone.

  Kimberly turned to face the parking lot once again, releasing a rueful sigh. Why can’t I ever get the sweet boys?

  Because you like bad boys, you dummy.


  Not anymore! she decided of a sudden.

  Yeah, we’ll see about that, won’t we?

  Her eyes caught movement off to her right, from the highest portion of the parking lot, in the deepest recesses of the furthest corner. Her eyes adjusted to the distance, because of the sunglasses.

  It was dog about the size of a German Sheppard. Only it was black, with the short hair of a Rottweiler and a musculature to match. Yet, it was clearly not a dog of that specific breed. Its’ jaws were too big, its’ teeth and fangs too long, too pointed at the ends. And, it wore no collar or discerning characteristics that it was someone’s pet. It was just sitting upon its haunches with an unsettling, very human-like grin on its face.

  Wait, dogs don’t have faces!

  And, it was looking right at her.

  Kimberly took a few steps toward the cul-de-sac, intent on walking home, when she heard something that made her stop in her tracks. The tiny hairs on her arms stood on end, her head scrunched into her shoulders.

  No, the fucking dog was laughing at her! She was sure of it…

  …With a low guttural squeal of delight that scared Kimberly more than Sonny ever had.

  How could it be laughing at me? she thought, but found she couldn’t tear her eyes from the horrid canine. It huffed with mirth in a very un-animal-like manner, right before her, as plain as day.

  Maybe I do need help, thought the girl as she quickly changed direction and leaped down the flight of stairs and onto the terrace, heading for the South Gym.

  “Where are you going, Sweet Meat?” came the question from behind, issued from a wet, gurgling throat.

  Kimberly froze for a second time, her eyes re-settling on the macabre canine.

  It was on all-fours now, its’ smile gone, its’ teeth bared.